#I'm just backstabbed by so much betrayal of this
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Sequel to This.
I'm completely devasted that we haven't got that kind of 4 Horsemen where we would've had 4 Obscure Animated Movies that are also based on Old Obscure Shows (most of which are Cartoons but The Magic Roundabout is Stop-Motion sooo..).
Though on the OTHER Hand, if you'd be one of the People who'd consider "Happily N'Ever After" to be an Adaptation of Simsala Grimm, (then I guess you'd at least consider to be a Fourth One completed) I still believe we would've gotten an Pentalogy of Obscure Adaptational Movies (considering we all know the Tragic Backstory behind the Space Goofs movie).
#I'm just backstabbed by so much betrayal of this#like it feels like that we've been completely robbed blinded of not getting a 5th Movie to complete this kind of trope 😭#lowkey that the Tabaluga movie is my Fav out of these BUT I bet the Space Goofs movie would've been my number one fav#indie text#space goofs#stupid invaders#les zinzins de l'espace#tabaluga#the magic roundabout#here comes the grump#simsala grimm#happily n'ever after#ice princess lily#doogal#a wizard's tale#meme#xilam#I may have accidentally spelled the other title for the Tabaluga movie wrong but eh who cares anyways since most of the US Titles are Cheap
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My Tears Ricochet - f1 grid x indycar!reader
+summary: after a devastating end of a six-year relationship, she decided a change was needed. a change that ultimately brings her more opportunities, and she even finds love in an unexpected place. +pairing: f1 grid x indycar!driver +warnings: cheating, curse words, pregnancy, betrayal, mentions sexism, mentions misogyny, etc. If I missed something, let me know. face claim: tony breidinger dedicated to @fangirl-dot-com. They helped me so much whenever I got stuck. I highly recommend them. Their fics are so good. I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
The way Wyatt became possessive over his phone when before he'd always let her use it was concerning, but she brushed it off thinking maybe it was just a one-time thing. Then she noticed whenever she stepped into the room, and he was on the phone, he'd leave or if they were in the room together and his phone rang, he'd get up and answer it in a different room. The thought of him cheating on her crossed her mind at one point, but he wouldn't do that, right?
Right? Wrong.
Stepping into the house after a long flight, all she wanted to do was take a nice hot shower to scrub off the airport griminess and cuddle with Wyatt on the couch, but walking through the house, she noticed articles of clothing strewn about. 'That's weird' she thought to herself. Her ears picked up moaning sounds coming from their shared bedroom. Hearing lewd sounds like that made her blood run cold. Wyatt was cheating on her, but with whom?
Opening the door to their bedroom, she was met with Wyatt having her barely eighteen-year-old sister, Elizabeth, bent over the side of the bed.
"What the hell is going on?!"
Wyatt pushed Elizabeth forward, letting her hit the mattress. "Y/n, babe, this isn't what it looks like."
"Really? Because to me it looks like you were just balls deep in my sister." her eyes darted to said sister who's twirling her hair in-between her fingers and kicking her feet back and forth all with a smug look on her face. "And you! You're my sister. How could you do this to me?"
"I've loved him for years and it wasn't fair that you had him all to yourself."
"So, you thought it was a good idea for you to sleep with him?! Do you hear yourself?"
Elizabeth got up from the bed and walked over to Wyatt, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's not the first time we've slept together."
"What does she mean, Wyatt?"
"Go ahead, babe. Tell her, or I will," Wyatt looking down at his feet hesitating to tell her was everything she needed to know that whatever's been going on between the two of them has been going on for a while. "Since he won't say anything, we've been together for eight months."
"Eight months?!?! Un-fucking-believable."
"Is now a bad time to say I'm pregnant- wait, what are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, watching as y/n left the bedroom, muttering under her breath about how her own sister was a backstabbing, home wrecking whore.
"I'm picking yours and his clothes up off the floor and throwing them in the trash where they belong."
"You can't do that!"
"Seeing as this is my house, I can do what I want and I'm just cleaning up the mess you left behind as per usual."
"But-"
Y/n walked over to the front door, opening it and gestured for her to leave. "I don't care where you go, or who you go to, because you are no longer welcomed here."
With no other choice, Elizabeth dug hers and Wyatt's clothes out of the trash and got dressed. Once they were gone, she wasted no time in reaching for her rather expensive tequila and drank it straight from the bottle.
"Who needs boyfriends when you have a sister like Elizabeth."
liked by josefnewgarden, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,239,512 others
yourinstagram italy photo dump.
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josefnewgarden where was my invite?
⤷ yourinstagram it got lost in the mail.
user1 I find it a little weird that she's in Maranello 🤔
⤷user2 everyone takes a vacation to Maranello, so it's not that weird.
⤷user1 maybe but wearing a Ferrari jacket and going to the Ferrari Museum and then taking a picture of the prancing horse? its sus to me.
user3 If you go to formula one, I swear to God I'll scream.
*liked by yourinstagram*
⤷user4 Y/N LIKED?!?
⤷user5 this pretty much confirms she's going to f1.
user6 that jacket is sooooo cute!
ScuderiaFerrari red looks good on you.
*liked by yourinstagram*
⤷user7 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!
user8 there's a reason why there hasn't been a woman in formula one in thirty-three years.
⤷user9 and its because formula one is for men and not women.
⤷user10 if she does to f1, she'll choke under the pressure and go back to indycar.
She'd be lying if she said listening to the Ferrari higher ups talk about what was expected of her once she signed the contract wasn't lowkey terrifying. Ferrari was the dream team. A team every driver wanted to be a part of because of its past successes and rich history. And who wouldn't want to join the likes of Fangio, Lauda, Prost and Schumacher in the Ferrari Hall of fame?
"You with us, y/n?" her lawyer set his hand on her shoulder, getting her attention.
"I'm sorry, but can you repeat that?"
"As we were saying, Ferrari goes deeper than just a brand of car. Many individuals have joined over the years, but many have also cracked under the pressure. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Oh! Definitely."
"If you're so sure, then sign away," Fred slid the contract over the sleek oak table and handed her a pen, hurriedly signing her name on the dotted line. As she set the pen down, it hit her. She was, as of that moment, a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.
She stood up, shaking everyone's hand, stopping at Fred. "Thank you for taking a chance on me. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't." The small French man smiled. "Now, would you like a tour?"
Nodding her head, an older Ferrari employee guided them to the door and started going from room to room, talking intensively about anything and everything Ferrari. It was one thing to see pictures of past drivers and read their achievements, but to lay eyes on the multiple rows of championship winning cars was another. It only made the excitement grow.
That same Ferrari employee saw Charles and immediately waved him over. "Charles! Mate, come meet your new teammate!"
When their eyes met, it was like everything slowed down. It felt as if no one else was in the room but them. Just then, a warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her, and a small flutter of butterflies tickled inside her body. Was this love at first sight? But she just met Charles. There's no way she could possibly fall in love with her new teammate Right?
The corners of the Monegasques' mouth curved into a grin. "I'm Charles."
"I'm Y/n."
His trainer and the Ferrari employee exchanged looks and knew something special had happened between the two drivers. No one looks at someone like that and does not end up together.
"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I got to get going. We should get together sometime and get to know each other since we're going to be teammates."
"I'd love that!"
They swapped phones, putting each other's numbers in. As the tour continued, she looked over her shoulder and watched him walk away, completely ignoring the Ferrari employee. The season couldn't start fast enough.
liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, josefnewgarden and 4,325,124 others.
scuderiaferrari pushing past expectations and shattering glass ceilings, y/n y/ln makes history by being the first woman since Giovanna Amati in 1992 to race in formula one. Everyone here at Ferrari can't wait to see what you achieve!
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yourinstagram racing for Ferrari has always been a dream of mine since I was a kid and now that's coming to fruition feels amazing. thank you for this opportunity.
⤷scuderiaferrari 🥰❤️
user1 time to stop watching formula one.
⤷user2 if you're going to stop watching formula one all because a woman joined the grid, then that's says a lot about you as a person.
charles_leclerc the season can't start fast enough!
*liked by yourinstagram*
user3 while I'm sad to see her leave IndyCar, I'm excited to see her race in formula one.
lewishamilton this is not only inspirational to me, but many women who want to get into motorsports, or even formula one, but don't because of the rampant sexism and misogyny. I know your career in formula one is going to bright!
⤷yourinstagram you have no idea how much this means to me!
user4 with charles and y/n Ferrari will be unstoppable.
*liked by scuderiaferrari*
user5 Ferrari dominance will bore people.
user6 Ferrari wdc and wcc confirmed!
part two will have ALL the drama.
tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119
#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula one imagine#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula one x driver!reader
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I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)
And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc
More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀
Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues
From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)
And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!
Spoilers for the game
Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.
He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.
For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.
Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.
I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.
But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.
But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.
And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.
I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.
I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.
Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.
I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.
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Between royalty and vows
Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc:2.4k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things starts to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
An: So, initially I was going to post the other fanfic I did with Fuckboy! Leon, but I thought it was bad and decided not to post it for now. But I still have plans for it.
I intend to do several chapters on this fic(I'm sucker for royalty AU), I don't know exactly how many but I plan to do more than 10 or 15, since I have a lot of stuff I want to put in. Most of them are not comforting.
This is a thank you to the 200 followers, which by the way is almost 300 by now. I'd like to genuinely thank each and every one of you<3 And I hope you enjoy this story, because I'm genuinely excited about it.
Prologue
Royalty wasn't for everyone, that much was obvious to those who already lived in this reality. A world of appearances where everything was perfect, people, everyday life, relationships. But that was a facade, the reality took place between closed doors.
It was never clean, the backstabbing behind the king's back, the betrayals, the lust that hid behind the elaborate and sophisticated costumes. But in the end, what mattered was how beautiful that royal family was to its subjects, honor being a crucial element to maintain.
Faced with all this, the Italian prince, Leon, was well aware of the dynasty's sacrifices. He was already aware of his duty, and knew that at some point his life would take a completely different turn from what he had expected. As the only heir, he knew that it wouldn't be long before his father wanted him to marry, after all, he had to carry on the line. The honor of the kingdom had to continue, and he was the only one who could.
Although he already knew that the burden of succession would come to him one day, he just didn't expect it to be so soon.
Leon was a man known for his accomplishments, despite his young age he was a brave man, as well as the incomparable beauty he contained. Sharp features, a piercing blue gaze, a prince who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He had a unique authenticity.
Yet he still couldn't fit in with his surroundings. His eyes staring at the chandelier, seeing how decorated everything in the castle was. Seeing the expensive clothes of each of the invited guests, the glittering dresses of the ladies who were there. He watched the people walking around the hall, seeing how comfortable they were in that situation.
But not him.
The evening was planned to be perfect, days and weeks of planning went into making this great event happen. All the most important royals were present at the castle, from the most prestigious dukes and duchesses to other kings and queens.
Today was the day that the Italian prince, Leon, would be presented to his future wife. He was the rightful heir, the next to rule his own kingdom. That's why the ballroom was perfect, every last detail thought of and worked on to create the perfect occasion.
To show off the future rulers of the country. The next ones who would take care of that kingdom and prosper it. It was a more than necessary moment to demonstrate the future couple.
Despite all the sophistication and dedication that the queen put into the celebration, Leon didn't seem to be at all excited or happy about the situation. He was sitting in one of the royal chairs, taking small sips of the most expensive wine, his expression sullen and bitter.
He didn't ask for any of this.
The day when the fates of two royals would cross, intertwine and become one. A marriage that would unite them, a commitment that once made could not be broken.
If he was being honest, he didn't even want to be a prince. This royal life didn't suit him, all these comforts and perks that didn't seem to fit in with anything he liked. A forced life, just because he was born into this family.
From where he was sitting, he could see you coming. The beautiful British princess, dressed in the most expensive of dresses, hair tied up in a bun. The ornaments that shone on you, as well as the enchanting smile that could melt even the hardest heart. At that point, all eyes were on you, curious and expectant. Everyone there was close to the soon-to-be queen.
Admiring your features, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful. Your sweet features, your face that exuded the purest grace and youth. Your way of walking that seemed to make you flutter with every step.
Still, you weren't her. You weren't the woman he loved. The only one capable of bringing a genuine smile to the skeptical man he was.
You weren't Ashley Graham, the princess he had fallen madly in love with. The one with whom he had sworn several vows of love, the one with whom he had promised to spend the rest of his life.
And there he was, preparing to marry another woman. One he didn't even know, or have any proximity to, and even worse, to marry a woman he didn't love. No matter how much he protested this to his father, nothing he said was listened to.
'You're going to marry her, whether you like it or not.' Words that still echoed in his head, and seeing how close this marriage was, he felt the weight of the situation on his back.
Yes, he had always known that this moment would come. His duty as a prince, to follow what was prescribed. What fate was supposed to have in store for him, even if he didn't believe in it.
But all his thoughts vanish once he hears a sweet voice calling him:
"Your Highness." The tender feminine voice coming from your lips, along with the elegant curtsy you made.
He blinked a few times, holding back a sigh out of politeness. Like the gentleman he was, he rose from his seat, returning the bow to you.
"Good to see you here, Your Highness." He says courteously, even if it's a lie. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was keep up appearances.
It was hard not to notice the prince's beauty, his handsome and charming face, his eyes the lightest shade of blue you'd ever seen. His blond hair was just as captivating. No wonder he was one of the most desired.
You felt lucky to be the woman who would marry him, even though you knew that the prince already had someone else in his heart. Rumors spread fast, especially when it came to a family as important as his. But magically things remained under wraps, even though the suspicions of this secret relationship were well-founded.
You always knew that like most marriages, you wouldn't marry someone you were in love with. But you still had a glimmer of hope that you could make him like you, at least a little bit. You hated to think that maybe your marriage was a ruin like all the others.
Love and royalty didn't go together, yet you wanted to try and make it something unique.
"Would you like a dance?" Leon asks, snapping you out of your deep trance of thoughts.
You nodded with a polite smile, holding his warm hand as he led you into the middle of the hall. The classical music that echoed through the space, as other people danced and celebrated, gave the place a joyful atmosphere.
As soon as you were in the middle of the ballroom, all eyes were on you. With a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, he bowed and began to dance with you.
One hand on your back, the other intertwined with yours, your bodies very close, your faces almost touching.
His feet moved in sync with yours, both of you moving gracefully. Whirling around the ballroom. The two of you waltzing all over the place, keeping smiles and gentle glances for each other. Acting as if you were a couple in love, making silent vows. His eyes not leaving yours for a minute, his hand briefly squeezing yours, the moment seemed magical. In a way you never imagined it could be.
His cologne filling your nostrils, the heat emanating from his body. Everything about him seemed to draw your attention, as if it were a temptation.
You could feel your heart beating fast, the butterflies in your stomach that showed your clear nervousness. But still you didn't stumble once, your grace and elegance being whispered about among the guests.
His eyes staring into yours, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. This dance was a demonstration of the cooperation between the two countries, the union that was about to take place. A reason to be honored.
Despite the delicacy of the moment, the fluidity with which you danced, the mesmerizing sophistication of your movements. The way your dress dragged across the floor and danced with you. The passionate look you insisted on seeing in him.
You knew it was a lie. A damn lie.
It was confirmed once you saw his eyes light up, the outline of a sincere smile forming on his lips. At first you thought it was directed at you, but that feeling was crushed when you decided to take a look back.
There she was, the breathtaking Highness Graham, the blonde who had captured Leon's heart. The girl who wore a delicate white dress, with sophisticated and expensive accessories, enhancing her beauty. She stood among the others, just admiring him with a beautiful smile.
She knew she had his heart in the palm of her hand, so she couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous of you. He belonged to her.
You felt it in the way he admired her, in the way he looked at her in a way you couldn't even dream of. He was hopelessly in love, to the point where he even forgot you were standing in front of him. His body just moved on automatic, as if his focus was only on Ashley, only on her.
Although you wanted to pull back a little, you couldn't. The waltz wasn't over yet, it was a tradition, and you had to go until the music stopped. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart, the feeling that you had already lost a battle that hadn't even begun.
Nobody said you could have his heart.
As he twirls with you, he seems to focus his attention on you once again. Just for a brief moment, he was smart, he knew he couldn't give too much leeway for other rumors to spread around.
It was imaginable that the marriage would be a failure, since both kingdoms only saw it as an opportunity to increase business. However, you didn't expect to get this response so quickly.
Destined for an unreachable man, who was so close and yet so far away. How cruel could fate be?
And so you continued, keeping up the play of a couple in love, dancing and waltzing around the room. His gaze shifting between you and her, just as his expression changed with every glance. For one he gave a polite smile, for the other he gave a genuine one.
And you already knew who was who in the story.
After what seemed like an eternity, the waltz was over. You are presented with a round of applause, whistles and sincere words of approval for your union.
This while you waved and smiled, then bowed to each other, a sign of respect from both sides. As well as showing your gratitude to each other for the opportunity to dance. Etiquette and tradition, which you were following to the letter.
As soon as the applause stopped, Leon held out his arm for you to take, so that he could guide you to the place where the king would give a speech about the future marriage.
Consequently, you and Leon would officially become engaged. There were many looks on both of your faces, so many that you couldn't even count.
One in particular caught your eye, the same woman who had captured Leon's attention earlier, Ashley Graham.
The subtle smile, which was soon reciprocated by Leon, although discreet, you were able to perceive this small exchange between them. You couldn't deny the lump that was forming in your throat as you tried to let the situation sink into your head, that you would at least understand how it would go on.
As you walked through the great hall, stepping on the expensive marble, making your way to where the king would make his pronouncement. Walking through the crowd of distinguished guests who were there.
You noticed him looking at you from the corner of his eye, as if he were analyzing you from head to toe. It wasn't as if he was judging you or anything, it seemed more like the look of someone who wanted to look at his future wife, as if he was thinking about how things would be from now on.
Which you didn't even know what it would be like, either.
It wasn't long before you arrived at the King's chambers, a polished and expensive place, you could feel the sophistication of his throne just by looking at it. The place was perfectly tidy, the carpet had no fuss at all, perfectly done. Every butler and waiter duly took their places, bowing as you walked.
It seemed that the king had already started his speech, but he hadn't gotten to the important part yet. First, he had to give a statement to those attending the event, nothing more than a courtesy to them for being there, as well as reinforcing his duty to his kingdom, and to each of his subjects.
A while later, the king stood up, raised a glass of wine and said loud and clear:
"Tonight is a special night," then his gaze falls on the two of you, and he smiles broadly, "My heir, my only son is going to marry."
Despite the obvious, a round of applause echoed around the room, whistles and compliments. Which caused you and Leon to smile at each other, acting as if the happiness was genuine, as if you weren't two unacquainted people about to get married.
As soon as Leon's father saw the general reaction, he raised his glass and said, "Cheers."
Enough for another wave of loud sounds and murmurs from people. They seemed to be very happy about the future of the kingdom.
Leon then gave you a hug around the waist, swirling you in the air. Even his smile changed, and you believed even for a second that it was real.
"We'll be happy," Leon murmurs, loud enough for the people around you to hear and giggle at the new couple.
"Yes, of course." You say with a sweetness in your voice, buying his conversation. Deep down you wanted it to be real, but you knew the shadow that stood between the two of you.
It was a lie, a facade, and maybe it would never be real.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#leon x y/n#leon x you#leon resident evil#leon kennedy smut#resident evil 4 leon#resident evil leon#leon smut#leon scott kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon re4#resident evil#re leon
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Ok so I guess this is a weird question, but what do you think about wally and dick being in a relationship? would it be healthy? would it last long? all those types of questions. I've been getting into dc recently, and I've been starting to realize alot of people ship those two, admittedly I can see why, I'm starting to like them too. Pretty sure I saw someone call them every Dick Grayson/Wally West stan "required phase", it would be a life if I said I didn't snort at that. But I've been curious if they would even work out, with their plans for their lives being so different, clashing with each other
Absolutely!
In fact I think that if Dick and Wally ever got into a canonical relationship, they would never ever break up which would be a massive problem for DC because DC needs their IT boy Dick Grayson to be shipped with as many people as possible. lol.
No but really the reason they're so great together is because Wally really, really cares about Dick's mental health. He's canonically made it his mission to make sure Dick is happy and safe and he loves his best friend so much. Dick has grown up with wally since they were tiny kids and he knows every detail of Wally's life and loves him. The Flash Plus comic is just the two of them being best buddies.
So considering the amount of love and care Wally and Dick have for each other. In Titans (2016) Wally literally writes a love letter to Dick. (they call it a friendship letter but c'mon who're they tryna fool.)
Titans (2016) Issue #15
Do you know what Wally does? He literally turns back time in order to prevent Dick from dying. Wally is retiring because he has a heart condition. He can't run. He can't be the flash anymore.
But.
Titans (2016) Issue #15
For Dick he killed himself.
I genuinely don't think it's possible for Dick to have a healthier relationship with anyone than he does with Wally. They're like cotton candy, white snow, salsa mix love. The purest, softest, fluffiest romance with a whirlpool of fun and excitement.
Something Wally mourns a lot in the comics is his loss of contact with Dick.
The Flash (1987) Issue #210
The reason they don't talk as much is because Wally is busy with Linda and Dick can't just third wheel a marriage. I mean he sort of already does but anymore than now and he would be living with them. Permanently.
I think the only issue they would have is the different cities. Neither of them would be willing to move because Wally loves Central City and Dick loves Bludhaven. However they would still be able to maintain a long distance relationship easily because even as friends they go on annual vacations, just the two of them, simply to hang out with each other. Also the occasional drop ins.
As soon as Wally heard Dick and Barbara broke up-
Nightwing (1996) Issue #88
The only time Dick and Wally have fought is when Dick is refusing self-care and Wally is so mad at him for neglecting his mental health. But even then it's more of a - fine. I'm leaving you alone for now until you get your stuff together. I know you can do it. - type thing. They would definitely work out despite the separate cities thing because Wally has unconditional trust and love for Dick and Dick loves Wally .just as much.
Besides, living in two cities is no problem for a speedster
Nightwing (2016) Issue #15
They're the classic childhood friends to lovers trope without all the backstabbing and betrayal stuff you see in movies. It doesn't matter if people even ship them or not at this point because if you asked them they would probably just marry each other and call it "bromance."
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I was looking around and I was wondering. What if Taehun had a loser girlfriend who's literally the complete opposite of him. Like she's wayyy nicer then him (too nice), probably a push over, and not that smart. But she's the comfort he wants ykyk I'M SORRY I'M THAT LOSER GF I JS WANT A MAN LIKE TAEHOON
Dummy!
A/N: worry not, anon. I'm that loser GF too. 😭 This'll be shorter than my usual, forgive me. I loved writing this so much though. 🫀🥹
Pairing: Taehoon Seong x F!Reader
Themes: reader being an idiot. if you're familiar with my writing, there is always swearing.
To some, it’s baffling how one could fall for Taehoon Seong out of all people. He’s a pretty guy with captivating eyes and graceful movements, nghhh~ he's undeniably irresistible, isn't he? Every girl around him would think the same, swooning left and right due to his insane visuals -- Tsk! He's gorgeous! And you weren’t any different. In fact, you were his biggest simp.
It was a curious pairing, to say the least—Mr. Bad Boy and Miss Too-Good-For-Your-Own-Good.
Taehoon strode into the room with the kind of attitude that made people step aside. His arrogance and aggression were palpable. “Do I look like a fuckin’ bank to ya? I ain’t lending 7000, got it? Now scram before I beat the shit outta ya.”
You, on the other hand, were the epitome of kindness and generosity. “Sure! You can borrow 200,000 won from me! Just pay it as soon as you can!” Yeah, incredibly dumb too, unfortunately.
Taehoon had an uncanny ability to read people like an open book. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?” He’d snap, seeing through deceptions with ease.
Meanwhile, “Always happy to help!” You remained blissfully unaware of how people took advantage of you.
Taehoon lived by his own rules, always favoring his own brand of logic. “I’m doing this my way. It’s more efficient.” he would declare, unyielding in his methods.
And then there was you, grappling with concepts that seemed beyond your grasp. “Fuck this shit, I don’t understand a thing!”
“It’s math.” He'd say, almost bemused.
“I hate it.” you’d retort, your frustration evident.
“Those are just numbers.” he would explain.
“Fuck numbers, bruh!” you’d respond, exasperated.
“USE THE THEOREMS, GOD DAMN IT!”
“WHAT THEOREMS!?!” you’d cry out in desperation.
In physical prowess, he was unmatched, while you... Uhh... “How many more laps? It’s been ages!” you’d complain during your grueling training sessions.
“It’s been 5 fucking minutes, y/n,” he’d respond, barely breaking a sweat.
You were expressive, a fucking drama queen. While he remained, well, Taehoon.
When you’d proclaim, “I love you!” your heart on your sleeve, he’d respond with a gruff, “Of course I feel the same, dummy.”
A small injury would elicit your dramatic reaction: “Ouch! That stings!” while he’d barely bat an eye and say, “Be careful next time, you dimwit.”
You might sob over a movie, your emotions spilled out loud, and he’d- “Boooo. 0 stars. Too many plot holes. ”
Sometimes, vulnerability hits you, “Ugly crying in my bed right now,” and he’d cut through the sadness with an - “Alright, who the fuck hurt you?”
Happiness flowed from you like a river when you were with him. “I’m so happy when I’m with you~” To which he’d retort, “Same-- Ugh! Will you wipe that grin off?”
When you voiced how something hurt you, he’d reply bluntly, “Sometimes we just have to suck it up.”
“Can’t you be a little more sensitive?” But he'd always try. “I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from.”
And in the wake of betrayal, you’d lament, “Aughh, I just didn’t expect her to backstab me like that, I’m so stupid!” He’d offer a rough kind of comfort, “Want me to kick her in the ass?”
But beneath all these differences—your gentleness against his toughness, your warmth melting through his cold exterior—there was balance.
There was love.
There was harmony.
If it wasn’t already clear, he needed you just as much as you needed him.
From time to time, Taehoon shows his vulnerable side. You have to remember, he's just a human being and he can't always keep up his tough guy persona.
He grapples with uncertainties, worried that without caution, he could distance himself from you and ultimately be left alone.
He carries a burden of past mistakes that weighs heavily on his shoulders. It's an injury he seldom recognizes, yet it impacts all his decisions in a subtle way.
The thought of his previous mistakes coming back to trouble him and harming his loved ones worries him deeply.
However, despite feeling clearly insecure, Taehoon, being Taehoon, decides to never address it openly.
These ideas, though, are simply possibilities. He always puts in the effort to avoid making mistakes.
You understand there’s more beneath the surface and always offer him gentle reassurance.
“Taehoon, you’re here now, and that’s what matters. I’m with you, no matter what.”
In his own way, he cherishes the balance you bring to his life.
After all, even a bad boy needs a good girl to keep him grounded.
As you look at him, with all his imperfections and flaws, you smile and say, “I love you.”
And he looks back at you with a rare, genuine smile and replies, “Yeah, I love you too, dummy.”
#ptj universe#viral hit#doyouhave500won#how to fight taehoon#taehoon bb#seong taehoon#viral hit taehoon#taehoon x reader#how to fight imagines#seong taehoon x reader#seong taehun#taehun x reader#oh no im thirsty#kenka dokugaku
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I have finally made more of The Gays (tm). And now with smut!
Bone apple teeth~
Taglist: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye (And i didnt have taglists before but since i tagged you guys before i assume you wanna know lol @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual)
Emperor's Saint (Pt. 3)
Prev || Next || Ao3
Fem!Custodes x Fem!Reader
CW: GAY, SUPER SAPPHIC GAY, FxF sex, Fingering, Eating out, what you expect from women fucking, plots real thin today ngl
Summary: Hera and The diplomat return to the ship and have a very normal evening of gals being pals in her quarters.
Word count: 4,290 (women take so long to fuck this is so much quicker with astartes)
“Thank you as always, Ambassador.” Guilliman says as you hand him the signed contracts. You made it back in one piece to the flagship, your new golden guard standing happily vigilant near a wall of Guilliman’s office.
The Primarch glances up from his work as he takes the paperwork, then knits his brow. “Hm? Are you well, Ambassador?” He asks as he studies your face.
You suppress a groan as you hear Heraclast suddenly push from the wall she was leaning on, now alert. You had been blushing and flustered the whole way to his office. Hera had been on a tangent on the way over about how she would wrestle with her custodes siblings for fun and how they always did so in loincloths only, to make it harder to get grabs in.
Needless to say the imagery had set your mind on fire. You could barely manage to reassure Hera your faintness and flushing was not a medical emergency, and now here was Guilliman, saying Hera’s trigger words again.
“I’m fine.” You tell the Primarch, trying to keep your voice even. “Just a little warm.”
“My Lady-” Heraclast says quietly, already behind you and placing a very unhelpful hand on your shoulder. “Will you not humor me and go to the medicae? Just to be assured of your health?” She pleads softly, her voice lower and sweet with concern.
Guilliman raises his brow as you flush even harder, his eyes going to Hera’s hand, then back to your face. He has the faintest smile as he processes the situation.
“Maybe your Shield has the right idea.” He says with a small chuckle, smirking a little in amusment. You grimace as you feel Hera’s grip on your arm tighten slightly. Betrayed by your own Primarch.
“Sir, I really am fine-” you try to argue, but it’s too late. Hera is already urging you out the door.
“Come, my lady, it will not take long, just to make sure you did not pick up any foreign illnesses in your journey.” She says, looking down at you with a soft frown and worried eyes. The sight makes your heart stutter again, and you shoot a glare back at Guilliman.
He is smiling, leaning back in his chair and chuckling to himself as you are hurried out his door. “Take care, Ambassador. You shouldn’t let your Shield have to worry so much.” He teases, and he actually has the gall to wink before turning back to his papers.
You scowl at him as the doors close. Betrayal. Cruel, backstabbing betrayal.
____________________________
“Hera I'm fine” you reassure her once again. She was pouting, sitting and watching you from the corner of your now shared quarters. You’d gone to the Medicae and were given a clean bill of health, much to Heraclast’s annoyance.
You sat at your vanity mirror, taking out the intricate braids Hera wove for you earlier from your hair. It seemed to take you more time to unwind them than it did for her to make them, and they kept tangling due to the complexity.
Hera huffs a bit, “Baseline medics, they haven't an idea what they're doing.” She grumbles as she pulls her chair with her, sitting behind you and gently moving your hands from your hair. She starts undoing the braids easily, still pouting to herself.
“They didn't even check for strange diseases, or take your blood, they barely looked you over.” She complains quietly.
Her hands gently tugging and running through your hair makes your shoulders slump in relaxation. You chuckle softly. You've never seen a custodes sulk before.
She huffs, and you watch in the mirror as her soft green eyes follow her fingers as they untangle your hair. You’re momentarily mesmerized by the way her hands move, the twitching of her forearm muscles as she works out the knots, and the way her pout makes her tense her sharp jaw.
Her eyes flick up from her work to meet yours in the mirror, and you suddenly find the chipping paint on your vanity veryinteresting. But not before Hera could clearly see the admiration in your eyes. You feel warm crawl into your cheeks as she softly smiles.
“Though, maybe I'm just worrying about the wrong causes for you always turning red and flustered, hm…?” She teases gently, running her fingers down your scalp and through your now free flowing hair.
Your eyes widen and meet hers in the mirror again, and she grins mischievously back.
“I have no idea what you mean.” You mumble, glancing away.
Heraclast's grin softens to a warm smile. “Oh, of course, My Lady. My apologies.” She chuckles, rising from her chair and stretching. She walks back to her bed- a large cot brought in after she showed up, She doesn't use it to sleep, but appreciated the thought- and starts unclasping her armor.
As she takes off her shoulder armor and places it gently on the floor, and you find yourself entranced again watching her muscles flex as she carefully lays each heavy piece down.
You turn around to face her, “aren't you going to do a tripple parameter danger check or something before getting defensless?” You ask with a nervous chuckle. She makes such a big deal about always being ready to protect you at a moments notice, it’s odd that she’d just get unarmed.
“Aboard the Ultramarine flagship?” She returns with a smirk. “Don't worry, I've done my research on all the marines currently aboard, and accessed all security records for the area and cross checked them with their schedules. They all behave as expected, and I do not worry about your safety from them.” she says with a gentle chuckle, finally stripped down to her under layer. She pulls off her tight silk top and you have to look away again.
There was a small knock on your door, drawing both of your attention. You start to stand but Hera is already at the door.
A somewhat Surprised Ultramarine stands in the doorway, brow raised as he has to look up at the massive woman. “Ah- apologies, I was looking for the Ambassador…?”
You sigh and join Hera at the door. “Hello, Andred.” You say politely. Your former bodyguard looks between the shirtless, massive, only dressed in a chest wrap custodes woman and your messy haired, slip wearing self.
“M-my lady.” He says, clearing his throat as his cheeks grow pink. “I, um, did not mean to intrude, I will come back tomorrow-”
You blink a couple times before your own cheeks warm, “oh!” You cover your mouth, “No no, it's not- Andred, this is my new bodyguard-” you say quickly.
His shoulders relax and he lets out a held breath. “Ah- of course, apologies, my lady…” he says nervously.
Hera grins, clapping him on the shoulder with enough impact to force the marine to balance himself. “Heraclast Ossian, Aquillian Sheild.” She introduces herself cheerfully. “You must be who's job I took! Don't worry, I have her fully protected for the foreseeable future.”
The marine gives a tight smile. “Andred Cestean. It is an honor to meet one of the saints of the Emperor, Sister Ossian.”
Hera tilts her head with a confused smile. “Sister? I do not believe we share any parentage.”
Andred knits his brow. “Oh, um, apologies again. Do Custodians not use familial titles?”
“No? Why would we.” She says with some amusement. “I refer to other custodians as a whole as kin or siblings, but metaphorically. We share no genes. Nor do I share any with you, Cestean. You may call me Heraclast, as all others do.”
Andred gives an apprehensive nod, “Right, of course. A pleasure to meet you, Heraclast.” He flances back to you. “May I borrow the Ambassador alone a moment?”
You smile and nod, happy to have a momentary break from your constant surveillance, but Hera shakes her head, fluffing her short undercut around her chin. “Alone? No. But you're welcome inside. I won't make a peep.” She chuckles, retreating to her cot. You roll your eyes and follow, sitting back at your vanity and brushing your hair.
Andred stands awkwardly just inside the door. “Alright, I suppose…” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “Lady Ambassador, I wanted to ask something of you.” He says, suddenly standing straight and at attention.
You smile and chuckle under your breath. Andred always was a little overly formal with you, but he was kind and respectful, and until Hera was here, he was a good bodyguard while you went about your diplomatic duties. “What is it then?” You ask, looking at him through the mirror as you tied your hair. If you didn't know better you'd think he looked nervous, but astartes don’t get nervous.
He pursed his lips into a line. “My Lady, since I am not in charge of your protection anymore, it would no longer be… a conflict of interests-” his voice actually cracked a little, making you raise an eyebrow, “-for me to ask, would you… would you care to spend more time together?” He finally managed, swallowing hard. “As in, well- romantically?”
You straighten in your seat, eyes going wide.
“Andred, I- I mean, I had no idea-” you stammer slightly as you turn to look at him. You feel the color in your cheeks drain a bit. You had no idea he had romantic feelings. You had no idea astartes got romantic feelings. You really wish he didn't. You considered Andred a friend, but, dating? The thought never once crossed your mind.
As you stammer and stall, Andred slowly deflates, frowning softly as he reads your expression. “Ah. I seem to have… miscalculated.” He says softly.
“No! I mean, well, yes- but-” you try to say, standing from your chair. You reach out to comfort him, but pull your hand back, realizing denying it would hurt him more. “It's not you Andred, Really.” You add a bit softer.
He looks away, taking a deep breath. You can see him trying to hold his heart together in his expression. In the corner of your vision you see Hera watching the scene with rapt attention, chin on her fist and leaning in like she was watching a cheap holodrama.
You try to ignore her. “Really Andred, it's not you, I really consider you my friend, I just-” you press your lips into a line. Your eyes dart back to Hera, and he doesn't miss the look, pressing his lips into a line.
“It's just… there's someone else.” He says softly.
You shake your head, “No, not that- I mean…” you sigh, grimacing as you force yourself to look into his sad eyes. “I just don't see you like that. I'm sorry, Andred.” You say apologetically.
His shoulders fall, deflating from all the confidence he was trying to hold himself up with when he came in. “I…. I see.” He says, glancing at Hera.
Heraclast doesn't even try to pretend she isn't fully engaged in the melodrama, chin on her hands and grinning. When Andred meets her gaze, she at least has the decency to pretend to look sad for him. He rolls his eyes and sighs.
“I'll leave you to your…” he looks you up and down quickly, taking in your state of undress, “…evening, then.” He finishes, trudging to the door.
You frown, scrunching your brow and taking a half step toward him. “Andred, you don't have to go-”
He holds a hand up slightly to stop you. “It's ok. I just misread things and… well, I need to go lick my wounds. I'll be fine.” He says, giving a half-hearted smile.
You frown deeper as he leaves, the door sliding shut behind him and latching with a noise.
Hera giggles impishly from her cot.
“Well, that was interesting.” Hera says with a little too much levity. She flops forward on her bed, head on her hands. “Why’d you turn him down? He seems to like you a lot.” She chuckles.
You sigh, giving her a tired look. “I just… don’t like him like that.” You say, trying not to stare at her chest as the wrap fails to contain her as she lays on her stomach.
She smiles and tilts her head. “Was he right? Is there someone else?” She says teasingly, scooting up on her cot.
You feel your cheeks warm again. “No.” You deny a little too quickly.
Hera blinks, tilting her head the other direction. Her eyes narrow as she studies you, sitting up and leaning forward, making you flush more. You cross your arms and turn away, trying to escape her dissecting gaze.
A playful grin slowly spreads across her face and you see a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.
“Heraclast…?” You rasp, praying to the Emperor silently that she isn’t thinking what you think she’s thinking.
She chuckles, springing up from her cot to stand right in front of you, forcing you to crane your neck up at her. She’s smiling ear to ear, and you freeze as you feel her hand touch the bottom of your chin.
Your whole body feels on fire suddenly, and she’s so close that you’re surrounded by her scent- sweet spice and incense and a little rosewater-
“Is it me….?” She asks in a soft, low voice. Her eyes are warm as they meet yours, half lidded and just a little apprehensive.
You feel like the air has been sucked out of the room, momentarily worrying there is a hull breach siphoning the oxogen from the ship. You can’t lie to her, so imposing and so close and by the throne how can eyes be so green-
You try to swallow, failing to sooth your hot, dry throat.
“Yes.” You manage to squeak, voice barely above a whisper.
She lets out a deep held breath, gaze softening into a tender look. Her eyes flutter down to your lips, and her hand trails from your chin up your jaw, gently caressing your cheek in her calloused palm.
“Good.” She rasps, and your breath is stolen again as her lips envelop yours.
You melt. Her free hand splays over your back, pressing you against her as she cups your face in her other and hungrily moves her lips against yours. Your head feels dizzy, but you finally return her eager kiss, which earns a happy purr from the Custodian.
She moves you with her, the edge of the bed meeting the back of your knees and making you fall back on it as Hera eagerly pushes you back, finally breaking the kiss. You gasp for air, but only get a moment to catch your breath as Hera scoops you under the arms and moves you back farther on the mattress.
She leans over you, catching her own breath in soft pants, warm tanned cheeks darkened with a blush. She smiles playfully, running a thumb over your lips.
“I thought you blushed an awful lot for someone who wasn’t sick.” She chuckles.
You giggle, shy at being caught. “W-well, You keep getting all close to me and saying things and-” you stammer defensively.
She grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And you’re so shy. Never letting me see you undressed, never letting me help bathe you.” She teases in a warm tone. “I feel silly not seeing it, but I suppose it has been a long time since I spent so much time around baselines…” she hums as she trails kisses down your jaw.
You see stars for a moment as her lips pepper your jaw and neck in soft kisses. “In your defense-” you mumble, hands snaking over her toned shoulders. “I was very subtle…” you giggle.
She lets out a low, rumbling chuckle from her chest, pulling back a little to smile down at you.
“Super subtle. So subtle Guilliman sent you to the Medicae to get checked for a fever.”
You laugh shyly, “Okay, well, maybe not very subtle.” You say, sighing as her mouth finds your shoulder, pushing your slip away to plant kisses down to your collarbone.
“Mm, I got there eventually. Only took seeing you completely uninterested in a kind handsome man, and seeing you very subtly look straight to me as you tried to deny having feelings for anyone.” She murmurs against your skin with a chuckle.
You giggle quietly, melting under her and running your hand up the back of her hair. “So… now what…?”
She smiles against you and slips your thin dress further down your arms, exposing more of your chest. “I figured that would be rather self explanatory, My Lady.” She purrs as she follows your dress down with her lips.
You look down at her, suddenly feeling a little bashful. “I mean- now?” You squeak. “Shouldn’t we, like, talk about things…?”
She scrunches her brow, picking her head up to look at you. “What? Why? You like me, I like you. There is a suitable bed for a little baseline here…” she says sweetly, lowering her head to your neck to nuzzle against you.
You bite your lip, head spinning as her hands ran over your waist. “That’s just all you need-?” You rasp, flushing warmer as she nestled her leg between your thighs.
She chuckled, gently nibbling at your neck, “Well, I bought you lunch. That’s a baseline courtship thing, right?” She teased.
You laugh, losing the battle of trying not to fold immediately to the heat pooling between your legs as she gently pushed her knee against you. “Technically, that was my money you paid with.” You chuckle.
She lifts her head again, grinning playfully. “Then you bought me lunch. Thank you, I accept your courtship proposal, My Lady.” She says with mock formality before returning her mouth to kissing the top of your now partially exposed breast.
You moan a little as her hand runs under your slip and over your sensitive nipple. At the sound of you folding to baser needs at last, Hera chuckles and takes it as permission to stop holding back.
She pulls your slip off, surprising you and drawing a soft yelp as it’s pulled over your head and tossed aside. She sits up, caging you in with her arms and admiring your now exposed body with a hungry gaze.
“By the throne…” she Murmurs, running a hand over your stomach. “You’re breathtaking, My Lady.” She says it with such soft admiration, her eyes raking over you so reverently, it causes your mind to wipe blank a moment. The way she calls you My Lady as she’s nestled between your legs like shes kneeling at an altar sends heat straight through you.
You swallow, and reach up to touch her toned arm with a shaky hand. You give her a shy smile, and she sighs and melts as she meets your eyes.
“I like you. And you like me. Your right. That’s enough for me too, Heraclast.” You say gently, squeezing her arm a little.
She lets out a low sigh, leaning in to give you one more soft kiss on your lips before pulling back with a smile and scooting back. She runs her hands from your waist over your thighs and up to your knees.
“Then, allow me to show you how much I have been admiring you, My Lady.” She teases with a smirk, pushing your knees apart gently.
You let out a small squeak as she takes you by the hips, easily lifting your ass up so she can pull your underwear off with her teeth, growling playfully as she slides them down your legs and tosses them aside. Before you have time to blush shes back between your thighs, and you’re taking by surprise again as you feel Hera’s warm tongue running up your center.
Your eyes nearly roll back as she laps over your clit, and she groans a happy sound that vibrates through you. “You taste amazing-” she purrs as she gently bites at your inner thigh. Your hands find the back of her short hair again as a moan escapes you.
She smiles against your thigh and chuckles at your noises, then laps at your lips again, devouring you like your wetness was ambrosia. You fist her hair as she wipes your mind with her mouth, and while you’re being worked into a stupor, the moans and gasps she makes between your legs makes you wonder if she’s somehow enjoying this even more.
Maybe something to do with Custodes competitiveness? The joy of a job well done perhaps? You chuckle internally at the thought before she envelops your clit with her soft lips and you forget how to think again.
She circles your hole with her eager tongue, chuckling into your pussy when it makes you whimper and pull her hair, grinding your hips up to her mouth instinctually.
“By Holy Terra, the sounds you make are so beautiful, My Lady-” she murmurs between lapping at your entrance. “The sweetest symphonies of the finest remembrancers could not capture the melodies of your noises-” She moans into you, drawing another whimper from your chest as she prods her tongue into you and her thumb starts rubbing your aching clit.
You arch your back up, one hand fisted desperately in her warm brown hair, the other grasping at your sheets. You could feel your stomach clutching with heat as she increases her tempo on your clit.
“That’s it- good girl-” she gasps against you. She returns her mouth to your nub, carefully working a finger around your entrance. You moan weakly, feeling her huge finger gently working into you. You never stopped to imagine how a 9 foot tall woman made of 99% muscle mass might be a little harder to get fingered by, but you don’t have time to think about much as she finally pushes it carefully into you.
She licks and sucks at your clit as you whimper and roll your hips on her hand, and she pushes a second finger in as she starts curling them up to meet your inner spot as you buck your hips with increasing desperation.
“Hera-” you gasp, gritting your teeth at the onslaught of sensations. You’re at the edge, breath catching in high, airy cries as she pumps her fingers into your clenching pussy. “Hera, close, I’m-” you plead.
She groans, increasing her rhythm into you and lapping at your clit in long, slow licks. She looks up at you from between your legs with burning emerald eyes, half lidded in ecstasy from being buried in your sweet pussy.
“Good girl-” she grumbles, “Let go, let me serve you-” she hums as she sucks your clit, gently letting it graze her teeth. She meets your eyes as she laps up your lips again. “Come, My Lady. Don’t hold back.” She purrs. She pushes her fingers deeper, stilling their pumping as she pets your gspot while sucking hard and rhythmically on your clit.
You’re pretty sure you die for a moment, eyes rolling back as she pushes you over the edge. When your ears start ringing less a few moments later, you realize you’re screaming her name. Your body trembles as she works you relentlessly, riding out your orgasm and making you cry out for her again as you clench hard around her fingers.
When your moans turn to whimpering she finally lets you collapse. She pulls her fingers out, making you twitch at the empty feeling, and props her chin on your lower belly, mouth soaked and grinning as she pants to catch her breath.
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy that nickname?” She murmurs, planting a languid kiss inside your knee.
You hum out a mmm? Weakly. She chuckles warmly, smiling reverently down at your fuck drunk face. “That nickname you gave me. Hera.” She clarifies.
She pulls herself up next to you, pulling your head to rest on her chest and petting your hair. “The name you call out when you come, the name you say so sweetly when you’re annoyed with me.” She chuckles softly.
You blink as your mind slowly pieces itself back together, looking up at her from where you’re nestled between her breasts. “What do you mean…?” You mumble.
“No one else calls me Hera. Just Heraclast, or Ossian.” She says, smiling sweetly and brushing fingers down your cheek. “You calle me Heraclast when you speak to others, or when we’re being formal. But I adore that when you fluster and blush, I’m Hera.” She leans down and kisses the top of your hair.
You giggle softly, nuzzling into her soft chest. “I didn’t realize I was doing that…” you say with a contented sigh.
Hera hums into your hair. “Mm, I know. That’s why it’s so cute. You gave me a pet name almost immediately and then pretended not to be head over heels for me for days.” She teases, rubbing your back soothingly.
Your eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion, nestled against her chest and being soothed so gently. “Mmm… I was… very subtle…” you protest drowsily.
She chuckled, making her chest move around your face. “Yes, very subtle, My Lady.” She said with a soft sigh, right as sleep overtook you.
#wh40k#warhammer 40k#custodes oc#female custodes#adeptus custodes#Custodes x reader#f!custodes x f!reader#wh40k fanfic#OC: Heraclast Ossian#emperor's saint fic
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So instead of Dany or Arya coming through with the twins, what about Sansa? Her trauma and overall skittishness towards men could lead to Daemon assuming the worst about what Cryane could have done to the children, plus her political knowledge how would be an interesting foil to Rhaegar. Also Jon would be Uber protective of her to make up for not being there the first time around. Sidebar, would she have red, silver or brown hair with Daemons genes thrown in the mix?
The Summerhall doorway is only interested in TPTWP candidates, so it's mostly an academic exercise when we talk about Starks tagging along, but I'm happy to do so!
Sansa's traumas are quite unique relative to Jon's, Dany's, Arya's, and Rhaegar's. I assume we'd be taking Sansa from the same point in time as Jon, so when she's being held by Littlefinger in the Vale as his "bastard daughter." What's rough about Sansa is how scarred she is. Rhaegar was born in the intrigues of the Red Keep; he has been dealing with Aerys since the beginning. He was trained in how to play the game, to guard himself, to trust few. He is a bit of a romantic, like Sansa, but was never an idealist, like she was. I think he's best equipped to understand the horror and pain she's dealt with, between the betrayals, backstabbing and Joffrey (who certain has some Aerys vibes in terms of cruelty/toying with "his" people).
So both he and Jon would provide different kinds of comfort for her. Rhaegar, she would feel, understands her. She feels safest confessing things to him, including her guilt over treating Jon like he wasn't true family. Whereas Jon is that fierce flame of protection. She almost feels like she doesn't deserve it, but she remembers that Jon has always been like that toward his family, toward Arya, and that he feels that way about her despite everything is another comfort. Jon makes her feel safe.
Sansa would hate Aegon. I think he would ping her Joffrey-dar super hard, between his entitlement and bullying behavior. Aemond she might feel a little sympathy for, perhaps seeing her own behavior in Aegon's and Jon in Aemond. Helaena is the kind of strange girl Sansa would have mistrusted and teased for not conforming to her idea of a lady, the way she did Arya, and again, that guilt and self-reflection means she approaches Helaena much more gently. Arya is gone, but here is another girl who feels that she does not belong, who is lonely, even.
Alicent would make her uncomfortable, since there's a twist of Cersei vibes to her. Larys would terrify her. Otto she would mistrust.
Daemon, meanwhile is a very different father to Ned, so there would be some adjustment there (and some resistance, given how much guilt and grief is tied up in Ned's death; that was her father, not this imposter). On the other hand, I can't think of a specific figure who harmed Sansa that Daemon would remind her of. If you're being uncharitable, maybe there's a little Cersei to him as well? But she'd be less likely to make the female-to-male comparison leap, I would wager. Rhaenys would remind her some of Olenna, so I could see her feeling a wary respect for her. Viserys doesn't have a real analog, but her experience with kings has been such that she is wary of anyone with that much power.
I have to think that Daemon would ask the boys if Crayne touched Sansa in any way, so he would know quickly whether she was traumatized in that way. But if the answer is no, then he has to conclude that she was mistreated in such a way in the Vale as to make her wary of some men.
Since Sansa's getting a smaller splash of Targaryen genes, I could see her looking more like the Royce/Stark side. Actually, it would be kinda poignant if she ended up with coloring like Arya's, matching Jon. The strangeness of looking into a mirror and seeing her sister instead. Maybe her hair is slightly lighter, just slightly redder than Arya's had been. Her eyes might be more Targaryen in hue, given her original eye color.
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Thank you for all your hard work...if only words could describe how much every single story has made me feel so much better🥹
May I leave a request in here
My closest friend went behind my back and betrayed me in the worst way possible and the only thing I have been thinking about was how to get her back, finding ways to make her regret it. (Do not worry it's just a payback, no blood bath in planning)
How do you think the bsd boys (nikolai, dazai, chuuya etc) would react to their s/o becoming so rough and hard after a situation like this? Would they help her or talk her into just letting it go? I mean it's not an easy thing the live with when someone backstabs you
𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥 , 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 , 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 , 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 , 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Idek if this is comfort or what
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k
𝐀/𝐧: I'm sorry to hear that, Anon. I'm glad my fics helped you feel better! I hope you're doing well. You can always vent to me anonymously, and my DMs are open. Now, I think I should stop posting angst fics and start writing more fluff/comfort fics.
—𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥
Nikolai listened to his s/o as they explained the situation with their friend, who had betrayed them in the worst possible way. He could see the pain and anger in their eyes, and it made his blood boil. How dare someone hurt the person he loved most in this world?
One day, as they were discussing what to do about the situation, Nikolai suddenly broke out into a silly dance. "I know what we should do!" he exclaimed, twirling around. "We'll give her a taste of her own medicine!"
His s/o couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him dancing, but the thought of revenge still lingered in her mind. "But how?" she asked.
Nikolai's expression suddenly turned serious. "We'll give her a warning. Let her know that if she ever messes with you again, she'll have to deal with me."
His s/o was taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. She had never seen him like this before. "Nikolai, you're scaring me," she admitted.
Nikolai's eyes softened as he walked over to her and took her hand. "I'm sorry, my dove. I just can't stand to see you hurt. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."
His s/o couldn't help but feel touched by his words, despite the lingering fear. She knew that Nikolai would never let anyone hurt her and that he would go to great lengths to keep her safe.
In the end, they decided to go through with the plan. Nikolai left a warning for her friend, letting her know that he was watching her and that if she ever tried to hurt his s/o again, she would have to deal with him.
While the thought of revenge still left a bitter taste in his s/o's mouth, she couldn't help but feel grateful for Nikolai's unwavering protection and love.
—𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲
As Fyodor's s/o approached him, he could see the rage and hurt in her eyes. "Fyodor," she started, "I don't know what to do. My friend betrayed me in the worst way possible. She went behind my back and did something unforgivable." Fyodor listened carefully, his expression never changing as she continued to tell him the details of the betrayal.
After a few moments of silence, Fyodor spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Myshka," he said, using his pet name for her, "I understand how you feel. Betrayal is a terrible thing, and those who commit such an act deserve nothing but punishment. I will help you get revenge on this person, but you must understand that it will not be a gentle punishment. It will be harsh, and it will be final."
Fyodor's s/o nodded, her face set in determination. "I know," she said, "I don't care what it takes. I just want her to feel the same pain that she caused me." Fyodor nodded in agreement, "Then we shall start planning. But remember, Myshka, revenge is a dish best served cold. We must be patient, wait for the right moment to strike."
As they began to make plans, Fyodor's s/o noticed a glint in his eye, a look of sinister pleasure. "Fyodor," she asked hesitantly, "Are you enjoying this?" Fyodor's expression did not change, but his voice had a hint of amusement in it. "Of course, Myshka. Revenge is what we do. It's in our nature. And besides, it's always satisfying to see those who have wronged us suffer."
As the days went on and their plan began to take shape, Fyodor's s/o found herself becoming more and more ruthless. She was determined to make her former friend pay, no matter what the cost. Fyodor watched her with a mix of admiration and caution, knowing that her newfound ferocity could be dangerous if left unchecked.
—𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮
Dazai would react to his s/o's situation with a mixture of concern and humor. He would likely make light of the situation and tease his s/o about their revenge plans, but deep down he would understand the pain and anger they were feeling.
One day, Dazai's s/o came to him looking more serious than usual. She explained to him what had happened with her friend and how betrayed she felt. She told him about her plans for revenge, and Dazai couldn't help but chuckle.
"Ah, my dear, revenge is never the answer," he said, grinning. "But if you're set on it, I'll be happy to help you come up with a plan."
His s/o looked at him with surprise, not expecting him to take her seriously. But Dazai knew how important this was to her and he wanted to support her in any way he could.
Together, they spent hours devising a plan that would make her friend regret what she had done. Dazai used his quick thinking and strategic mind to help his s/o come up with a plan that was both effective and safe.
But even as they plotted, Dazai made sure to remind his s/o that revenge wasn't everything. He knew that the pain of betrayal would stay with her for a long time, but he also knew that holding onto anger and hate wasn't healthy.
"Don't let this consume you, my dear," he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let it go and move on. You deserve better than to be held back by the actions of others."
His s/o smiled at him, grateful for his support and understanding. Together, they executed their plan and watched as her friend got her comeuppance. But even as they celebrated their victory, Dazai made sure to remind his s/o that there was more to life than revenge.
—𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚
Chuuya sat across from his s/o, watching as she scribbled furiously in a notebook. He could tell she was still reeling from the betrayal of her friend. He took a sip of his wine before speaking up.
"Thinking about how to get back at that bitch?" he asked bluntly.
His s/o looked up, surprised. "How did you know?"
Chuuya chuckled. "You're not exactly subtle."
His s/o sighed, setting down the notebook. "I just can't believe she would do that to me. We were supposed to be friends."
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. "So, what's your plan?"
His s/o leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I've got a few ideas. I was thinking of setting up a fake social media account and exposing all of her dirty secrets."
Chuuya smirked. "Sounds like a good time. Need any help?"
His s/o looked at him skeptically. "Are you sure? I don't want you to get involved in my drama."
Chuuya waved a hand dismissively. "Please. I'm always down for a good revenge scheme. And besides, I can't let that bitch hurt my girl."
His s/o smiled, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Chuuya. You're the best."
Chuuya smirked, pouring himself another glass of wine. "Damn right I am. Now let's get to planning. I want to see that bitch squirm."
—𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨
Ranpo had been aware of the situation since the moment his s/o had confided in him. He had listened patiently as they recounted the betrayal of their so-called friend, and the subsequent desire for revenge that had consumed them.
As he watched his s/o brood and plot revenge, Ranpo couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement. He knew exactly how his s/o felt; after all, he had encountered his own share of betrayal and injustice in the past. However, his approach to handling such situations was vastly different.
"Are you really going to let this person have so much power over you?" Ranpo asked his s/o, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"What do you mean?" his s/o replied, a hint of confusion in their voice.
"Well, by obsessing over revenge and making them regret what they did, you're essentially allowing them to control your emotions and actions. They've already hurt you once; don't give them the satisfaction of hurting you again by dwelling on it. Move on and focus on the positive things in your life," Ranpo said, his tone serious.
His s/o was taken aback by Ranpo's response. They had expected him to join in on their anger and offer to help with the revenge plot. Instead, he was suggesting that they let it go and move on.
"But Ranpo, don't you think they deserve to be punished for what they did?" his s/o asked, still feeling conflicted.
"Of course they do, but not by your hand. Leave it to karma or the law of cause and effect to deal with them. You have more important things to focus on," Ranpo said, his voice softening.
His s/o pondered Ranpo's words for a moment before nodding in agreement. Maybe revenge wasn't worth the energy and negative emotions it would bring. Maybe it was time to let go and move on.
As they hugged Ranpo in gratitude, he couldn't help but feel proud of his s/o's growth and maturity. Maybe, just maybe, he had taught them a valuable lesson in handling betrayal and injustice.
Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.
#bsd imagines#bsd#bsd fanfic#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#nikolai gogol x reader#nikolai x reader#bsd x reader#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoevsky x reader#nakahara chuuya x reader#chuuya x reader#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#edogawa ranpo x reader#ranpo x reader
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Oh I ADORE the idea of a Bumble/Star Flower dynamic. I always imagine Star Flower to have this sweet and soft exterior to her that allows her to manipulate Clear Sky, but is in actuality a cold, solemn, purpose-minded cat who takes no shit. Her geniunely taking interest in this sweetheart kitty who's full of confidence (and probably hates Clear Sky's guts as much as she does LMFAO) is so intriguing pleaaaaase tell me more ❤️
At the moment it's just sort of indulgence because I think their dynamic is interesting, so I haven't completely leaned onto it yet. I probably will though.
What I like a lot about them is that they're so different, yet so alike. They're both victims of their canon's misogyny, in opposite ways. It killed Bumble and prevented Star Flower from being what she could fully be.
In BB, Star Flower was the high priestess of One Eye, in one way, a daughter in others. He was violent and controlling. She was charming and capable. She did exactly what he wanted from her, and she enjoyed being his devotee. They loved each other like a parent and child, and for him, she would stay blind to the pain in the world.
Because she KNOWS that what she does hurts and kills people. Clear Sky isn't the first cat she's skilfully bled out slowly. But when her God is involved, this is not a terrified, screaming person on an altar. It's meat to be prepared for her beloved father.
And as long as she has One Eye to serve, she doesn't have to think about the humanity that is part of her new form. In a way, she's the same extinct medicinal flowers she used to be, before she took a shape as a mortal. She's his treatment. His bouquet. The flowers at a funeral.
And that's a kind of toxic dynamic, too, yknow. To love someone who merely offers you the simplicity of being their butcher.
How could she ever have prepared for his DEATH? To be SEPARATED from him? She is like an angel separated from her lord, whose one purpose has been destroyed.
And then she seduces Clear Sky, the treacherous beast who betrayed them. She'll bleed him like a goat, and be reunited with her father. And even more--
She'll offer it to Thunderstar, too! He understands her anger! Skystar is a snake who's bitten him as well. He will be grateful. There will be more who worship the warmth of the God of Summer, just like her.
But he rejects it, and you know why?Because he's had a toxic dad too.
Not one he loved like she did her own, but it gave him the clarity to realize that sacrificing Skystar HERE, after being backstabbed at his lowest point and suffering for hours, to bring a MONSTER back into the world, would just be revenge.
...and revenge is what Star Flower wants, too. She's hurt, but doesn't recognize that emotion.
(Still working out the climax of Thunderstar's Justice. I'm thinking that One Eye pops up, half-ressurected, and turns on Star Flower for his last sacrifice and Thunderstar saves her from that)
And after that, she can't go back to SkyClan. Of course.
When she speaks to Bumble for the first times, Star Flower is still threatening betrayals. Insisting, chuckling, that she's done Terrible Things and will do them again.
And Bumbs clocks immediately, "You're doing that to get a rise out of me and it won't work because no one would tease their secret evil scheme."
Bumble is going through a lot right now, actually. Thunderstar is getting good at speaking Parkmew on his own, now. Sparrow Heart, her daughter, betrayed her to join SkyClan in the pursuit of power. Her son Pebble Heart goes by Owl Eyes these days, and he's a big strong warrior who doesn't need her. It seems like no one needs her.
She talks a big game about her self-worth, but a lot of it is bluster and self-assurance. She'll insist she's the BEST AND COOLEST CAT THIS SIDE OF THE EVERYWHERE but she's hiding a LOT of guilt, none of it deserved.
I feel like Star Flower is fascinated by this. The dishonesty here. How Bumble presents herself as boisterous and over-confident, but hides a great sadness within it.
Ahh, Bumble wants a God to serve too, doesn't she? Everyone does. Is a Clan a sort of God to serve? ...yes, this is making sense.
For Bumble to Star Flower... she's brand new, an outsider just like she was once. A very strange one with strange humor, who exists at a time when her life is undergoing a lot of changes. She likes the way Star Flower is so interested in her. She enjoys showing her around the territory.
God, sometimes it just... it reminds her of Turtle Heart, you know? Before Tom came. When it was just them, and they were young and they were learning all these wonderful things together.
It never got better, really, losing her lover and her best friend. She's just been GO GO GOing for years, GO out of this Clan, GO get your kittens, GO open negotiations. It wasn't until NOW that she's really had time to process the loss of Turtle Heart.
And that's sort of where they are, now. There's not really an end in sight, they're just very involved and interested in each other. Not quite courting, but not NOT courting either. Sappho and her acquaintance lmao.
#Bumble's Midlife Crisis LMAO#Another entry for funniest way to pass the Bechdel Test.#I like how both of them would cuddle the other like ME AND THE BAD BITCH I PULLED BY BEING AUTISTIC#With bumble just absolutely consumed by fluff#What is this ship called#Starbumble#Bumbleflower#It's JUST ME in this tag I guess LMAO#BB will have you shipping the wildest things. We out here with Jaggeddeer and Starbumble.#BB!DOTC#Better bones au#Thunderstar's Justice
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MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "
omg how fun, thank u for sending this in nonnie !!! let me see...
@astraystayyh and hyunjin would have to be some 800k ao3 slow burn about forbidden love between royal families ... the grandest and most poetic of period drama romances that persists through backstabbing and betrayal and trial after tribulation. nothing less for my artistic soulmates
the first tropes to come to mind for @rachalixie and minho are literally just. not even really tropes. established relationship. domestic fluff. slice of life. they're That Couple. nobody remembers when they weren't together. they invite me over for dinner when i've had a bad day. mom and dad
@like-a-diamondinthesky and seungmin are the EPITOME of (fake) enemies to lovers. they're the sweetest, silliest, most sinister people and i just know their dynamic would be a dream come true for each other and a nightmare for everyone else
sue is just her "eighteen" mc in my head so @soobnny and seungmin scream best friends to lovers + college au to me. seung being the best cheerleader for her while she's crazy busy :') also she flusters v easily and i think he'd get a kick out of that (ik i do)
@luvtak and felix are giving childhood friends to lovers! the sort of relationship where they know each other better than they've ever known anything; really just the safest, warmest, and kindest of affections for the safest, warmest, and kindest of people
i'm gonna cheat again and hc @sunboki and chan as a trope from august's mafia au "korea's most wanted"; augs is so creative and badass and SEXY and so is the main couple's dynamic in that fic. chan's a lucky man. DITCH HIM FOR ME 🗣️
@txtxlz and jeongin would be a multipart messy love triangle ft. jealousy and pining and so much chaos bc haz has more biases than i have fingers or toes and i love love the idea of her favorite idols going to war over her. it's what my baby deserves fr
for @2baabbies and felix, i imagine perhaps a barista au or a librarian au (hehehehe) where he finds stupid excuses to come back and pick bae's brain every day because he's utterly enraptured by her. she has that effect on people and lix would NOT be immune
@starsandrqindrops and seungmin are so fwb-coded. think suffocating chemistry every time they interact. could cut the tension with a dull machete. then inevitably complications like Feelings come into play and they dance around each other for ages before finally giving in ... mm yes all that good stuff
last but not least, @hyunnie04 and hyunjin would be so perfect for an art school!au. mira is an incredible artist so i'm picturing these two sketching each other instead of paying attention in class ,,, gallery/museum dates ,,,, maybe a sprinkle of healthy competition who knows ,,,,
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I've seen a lot of "we need a TD best friend duo who actually don't know each other", so thought I'd add something to it
so. we need a TD best friend duo a la Wayne and Raj or Katie and Sadie, but they secretly don't know each other. they just joined because they thought the duos tended to be popular enough to last long in the game.
however. one of them is planning to backstab the other in order to advance once the opportunity presents itself. ("C'mon, the whole point of a fake friendship is that it's fake. I'm just playing the game, this doesn't mean anything.") and they are certain that their friend is planning the exact same. like, there's no way anyone's really that nice, it has to be an act.
but nope. their friend has genuinely come to really like them as a friend and thinks the feeling is mutual. they don't mind too much if they lose, they're just in it for fun. and they're certain the other feels the same. there's no way someone that nice could betray them.
imagine the angst potential when the betrayal actually happens. the realisation on both sides that they were never on the same page. we take the fact that they don't know each other and we Weaponise it. do you See my Vision
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Actually chewing on the Will as Judas idea so hard right now like. The drama! The implications! The government trying to make El a spy vs. Will becoming their spy incidentally. Henry spying on the Party in s2 vs. joining the Party just to get backstabbed in s5. El approaching the despair horizon because what did she save Will or anyone for? Mike?! His look of realisation torn between absolute betrayal and devastating, compassionate understanding?! (For the first time Will can’t meet his eyes)
Will becoming their spy because he's trying to do what he thinks is right...him feeling like no one can/does understand what has to be done, or that he's uniquely situated to know what has to be done because of his experiences...Bonus points if the feds tell him he's doing the right thing/tell him he's a hero. Something something, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions".
As much as I'm not sold on that being Henry at the end of ST2 (just based on the VR game weirdness re: the Mindflayer), I think it would fuck severely to have him return only to be backstabbed by someone who thought they were being a hero while acting on their resentment. Something something, the Jason-Will connections...the Edward/Eddie-Henry connections...Jason thinking he's a hero and only he knows what the right thing to do is while acting on resentment re: Chrissy, meanwhile Eddie was the wrong target...you feel me.......
Bonus points if there's a "What have you done?" involved. Bonus points if someone gets hurt (ex. the way Will was originally meant to have killed Bob himself while flayed). Bonus points if Will has to try and fix his mistakes as part of his growth. Bonus points—and this was Wilbur's thought—if that's why Noah was bawling while reading the final episode.
#asks#just speculation#judas!will is dear to me but NOT in the way of him joining the UD as a villain. no. he'd join a different side under the impression that#he's a hero. >:)
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Interesting perspectives.
I'm a big baby who mostly just dislikes LL for being the "meanest" season, with everyone backstabbing each other, no compelling dynamics as well as some of my least favourite dynamics in the whole series (truly it was the season that belonged to my beloatheds), and too many big groups (not fond of groups larger than 3, more than that makes interactions get lost and alliances weak in an uncompelling way. a duo/trio can realistically trust each other and have a personal dynamic, a quartet+ are just early episode roommates (this is a problem that is a result of the length of the seasons, I think if they were closer to 12+ episodes larger teams would work better, but I also think if a season stuck around that long everyone would be sick of it)).
And also yeah if you ask me to remember much of anything that happened in the last 2/3s besides an unrelenting wave of betrayals and abandonments I'd be hard pressed to think of anything. I can't even remember most people's last deaths. The map was also the most Eh map in the series, never knew where anything was, was all just ambiguous forest. Session 2 was good, though, entirely because of Lizzie. And, I also watch things as casual entertainment first and foremost, so most of my first watch enjoyment is "did this pov make me laugh/cheer on their antics". LL very rarely made me do either.
I waver back and forth between it and 3L being my least favourite, though, cause 3L was genuinely just kinda boring unless you cared about either desert duo or renchanting. And I kinda liked both but I didn't love either. People weren't as funny and didn't know each other well so they were awkward, they still didn't know what they were doing, and the map outside the desert was wasted (a particular quality of each season that people don't talk about nearly as much I think, setting quality). I can only enjoy it casually as background noise, I rarely get pulled in.
I know this one is an unpopular opinion because the last two seasons can't go a single episode without some controversy by monday, but to me the life series generally is one that gets better every season. Though I think SL was its peak even if it didn't have any particularly compelling teams, the gimmick was the best and everyone was at their funniest and enjoying themselves the most, the gimmick lent itself to being bent to the needs of the game such as lightening the blow of the wider gap of final deaths by having Jimmy return as a ghost, or giving the reds tasks to do damage. It was good at creating both personal moments and server-wide moments.
Double life is my favourite though, because no objective qualities can beat out favourite characters and first entry bias. Also the small amount of deaths and inherently having someone to share it with made every single one memorable, and it had one of the best maps with the ancient city and canyon. And every single team memorable and well-utilized base, as well as being the season that finally forced everyone to get to know each other which the later seasons benefited from greatly.
Yeah, in my head 3L and LL are slightly like test runs and DL is where the series really got on a roll. Grian said they didn't even know what they were getting into with 3L and I think you can tell that by the over-correction into DEATH game territory LL did before DL reeled it back in and they found more of a balance for the rest of the series.
(Actually "5th is the best, 3rd is my fav" is the exact same opinion I have about pokemon, funny enough. Maybe its something)
But I also think that comparing seasons is a bit like comparing apples to oranges since every single one is so different besides the base 'death game' concept. Like I like 24L and WL equal amounts but also they don't have a single thing in common so I find it hard to even put them side by side. And, of course, RL is just... its own thing entirely.
This is why I rotate stuff like the funny evil bdubs interpretation chart/cycle so much because essentially all the reasons you listed for disliking 3L and LL are reasons they're my favourites e.g. the awkwardness, the distrust you could feel in larger groups, the overall meanness, so on.
They felt absolutely like. the most DEATH GAME out of the series, DL still felt like a death game to me albeit with a slower pace and much more focused on conversation and drama than action. LimL marked a very distinct shift in tone for me although that was also the first one I watched as episodes were coming out so that might've been a factor. SL and WL so far feel more like Mario Party than Death Game with maybe the exception of the very last episode of SL feeling much more like something that should've been in an earlier season due to the lack of tasks.
I think we're all biased towards our own fav seasons but tbf I think the "controversy" with each new episode of WL is more. me being grouchy than any real significant drop in retention? You can correct me on this I am absolutely not watching the numbers but I've definitely seen people like the direction the series is taking which is honestly cool w/ me cus I feel like Grian knows that in competitive situations with time it either goes the funny minigame RNG route or the sweaty min-maxxer route and I and most people I feel like would much rather watch the series go more in the direction of funny RNG than Last Life 2 where everyone employs the smajor strategy of not making enemies, making a base in the corner of the map, only teaming with 1-2 people, etc. Plus it's going to be kind of hard to fish back the distrustful atmosphere of 3L/LL when it's six seasons in and pretty much the entire cast are friends.
Anyway yeah the apples and oranges thing is very correct, it's more or less a different vibe completely and why death game stories that are intended as death game stories usually don't rerun the same cast lol <-- although the "they are stuck in a horrifying death game loop forever to the point where they dont care anymore and find it kind of fun" angle is something I find really cool to think abt with this series.
One of the reasons I like LL over 3L actually (other than the very strong first season I watched bias) is the fact that 3L was a rare situation where I felt like there was a very clear A plot/B plot that emerged with main and side characters. Bdubs' POV in his last episode was literally just brewing potions in his house whilst a million death messages flooded the chat lol.
I still think 3L might be the strongest narratively and its "b plots" although not as flashy as desert duo vs dogwarts have some really cool stuff that have left me fucked up forever mentally (flower husbands I'll never forgive you) but yeah. Compared to LL and the seasons that come after it does feel like the one where all POVs are equal but some POVs are more equal than others. Especially when LL was a massive fucking mess in terms of its alliances where every single team had some sort of massive dramatic moment.
Thinking about it now I think I like the life series for the same reason I like those. "100 player battle royale" videos where I more or less look at it from an angle of an unethical psychologist. Holy shit okay um I was about to make a joke about how I would be Zimbardo instead of Freud if Zimbardo was dead and I didn't think this would be the way I found out Zimbardo died last month holy shit post cancelled I feel bad now
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Emmrich X Rook: First Moment of Connection Prompt for DADreams
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I RAN LATE GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!! I am so UPSET because??? I kinda veered off course at the end there and the quality dipped so I could hit the deadline... which I failed at.... ANYWAY I am NOT fully pleased with this and I need to go through and edit it but I am sleepy and want it out NOW!!!!! Please forgive the quality, I'm getting back into the swing of things...
Alina had become accustomed to betrayals and deceit - politics, manipulation, seduction, backstabbing; all were commonplace amongst the Antivan Crows. She spent her life in their service, killing in their name and bringing them sovereigns aplenty, flashing charming smiles and honeyed words to all manner of people... Even those she found reprehensible. Because such was their expectation of her. Why would she give less than the entirety of herself to those she had been reared by? It's not as though she found no pleasure in her life lived amongst them, after all.
And yet, even calloused and cold, behind her smirks and wit and alluring glances she gave, there was still emotion, buried though it was. And she cursed the ease with which it could be coaxed to the surface, even after so much time had been spent to avoid it.
Her eyes, colored like a lush forest bathed in the light of the spring sun, cast their gaze to the nightstand where the letter sat, solemn and grave, before she sharply whipped her head to the opposite end of the room, the well tended edges of her cared for nails grazing her forearms as she dug them into her own flesh absent mindedly.
The letter had been passed to her as she and her unit made way through the stalls of Treviso, the hooded figure - clearly a constituent of the Crows - stopping her in order to deliver it, the small parcel lacking in a seal or stamp.
At first, she assumed it was just another request - some Crow or random no one whose name she didn't care to know asking a favor or giving information. Her disinterest turned into confusion, then shock, and then, at last, rage.
Alina briefly recalled how Emmrich and Lucanis turned to each other in bewilderment as she announced they would be returning to the Lighthouse prematurely. They had inquired after her reasoning, but the way she had uncharacteristically snapped so suddenly had ceased any further questioning from both parties.
As soon as they had returned, she wasted no time in retreating to her quarters, walking past Bellara and failing entirely to answer her. She hadn't even been fully aware of her there, truth be told. Not when she was worked up like this.
So now she was here, pacing madly in a wild frenzy in steps so heavy she was practically beating her heels into the floor, breathing and sighing, occasionally even cursing while she languished in her uncertainty and grief.
***
A soft hum of discontent left his throat subconsciously, his various chains, rings and bangles jingling and clanging as he rubbed his hands together in repetitive motions while he paced through the room. He had never seen her so shaken, never known her to be so done in by such visceral emotion before. He was used to seeing her flash a bright, comely grin, or seeing her eyes gleam with resolve. No obstacle had ever given her pause, even at the worst of times.
What had she seen to bring her to such state? It was as if he and Lucanis had ceased to exist entirely at the stalls in Treviso, her eyes in their direction, but not truly seeing them. Had she paid any attention then, she would have noticed the way Emmrichs eyes had never once left her countenance, his brows steadily furrowing in worry as the clear distress rose in her features.
He asked after her, the genuine concern for her clearly not reaching her as she initially ignored him completely, walking past him with her head and shoulders somewhat sagged, her brilliant black hairs falling in front of her face to obscure her eyes. When Lucanis and he both had pointed out her clear state of distress, she had snapped at them suddenly, leaving no further room for discussion as she immediately turned her back to them without so much as a glance.
He tried once more upon their return, yet she simply breezed past him, not so much as bothering to acknowledge his presence. In fact, even Bellara, whom Alina normally regarded with such fondness and attention, was utterly ignored. He knew better than to chase after her in that moment. After all, if she was so desperate to escape the rest of them, he would only be burdening her further, surely?
Emmrich sighed heavily, finally halting entirely to place his hands flat on his lower back, thoughtful.
That thought hadn't brought any degree of comfort in the three hours that had since passed. Bellara and Harding attempted to coax her out to supper, to no avail. They even tried having Lucanis cook a traditional Antivan dish to help her spirits. Once more, their efforts were met with the same lack of results.
"Manfred!" He called, a shout that carried no malice, but some urgency.
The sound of bones rattling and shoes squeaking on solid stone followed, the skeletal assistant hobbling in while holding a stack books.
Emmrich lifted his hand, his pointer finger outstretched, his other arm folded beneath his elbow, "Manfred, do be kind enough to mind the mortar and pestle while I tend to some business. That embrium won't grind itself."
Manfred placed the books down on a nearby desk, groaning all the while before he stretched his boney arms to give Emmrich two upturned thumbs; his way of letting Emmrich know he could be relied upon.
The necromancer couldn't help the proud smile that tugged his lips at the gesture, his chest filling with warmth. He then turned on his heel to exit the room to make his way to Alinas quarters. Perhaps she would meet him with nothing more than silence... or the opposite, but he felt he had to try. If she was deeply ailed by the contents of a simple letter, then he surmised that she could use the support - even if she didn't care to take it.
The activity in the main chamber had ceased, all the tenets currently retired to their respective quarters after supper had concluded. With a steady stride, he made his way to the staircase that led up in a spiral to where Alina would be. Each step taken up the marble stairway caused the sound of his jewelry to echo gently through and up the walls, sounding almost like a heavy purse of coins.
Emmrich stopped outside of Alinas door, listening momentarily to see if he could hear any rustling or movement. The notion that she may have fallen asleep after all the that time had not escaped him, and if she had found any rest, he hardly wished to be the reason she was kept from it. He needn't have bothered, however, as he almost immediately heard the sound her voice cursing in Antivan. He closed his eyes with a sigh. That hardly spoke well of the results he might receive. But he had resolved to try.
***
The word fell from her mouth with all the venom of a wyvern, her voice a lower register than was usual. She practically spat every time his name flashed into her thoughts, and was nearly drawn to physical reactions when his face threatened to flit behind her eyes. She thought herself above this now. After two years, how could she still be this... weak?
The sound of a knock made her head whip suddenly, her heart stopping momentarily in surprise. There was hardly any logical reason, but she felt uneased, almost unsafe. A few seconds passed in silence, with no indication of another incoming.
"Pardon the intrusion, Alina, but I was hoping I might borrow a moment of your time." The familiar voice of Emmrich came muffled through her door.
She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. 'It's just him... Of course, it's just him...' She thought to herself inwardly.
"It's not a good time." Alina said curtly, voice barely raised and tinted with a colorful spite, though not directed at Emmrich.
The sound of the necromancer clearing his throat was almost inaudible behind the door. "I had assumed you might say as much, but I'm afraid it is for exactly that reason that I must insist we speak."
Alina said nothing in response, instead standing in place with the obstinance of a child too petulant to admit defeat at an imagined foe. Once more, silence enveloped the two, neither one speaking for a time, one too stubborn to yield, and the other attempting to afford the understanding he knew was needed.
Finally, a sigh, heavy enough to be heard distinctly even through the door, made its way passed Emmrichs lips.
"Alina, it isn't my wish to harangue you, but I must urge you to reconsider speaking with someone. It needn't even be me, if you prefer, but you haven't been yourself ever since you read the contents of that letter..."
A pause came then, Emmrichs voice faltering as he pondered his next words, leaving Alina to stare expectantly at the shadow he cast beneath her door.
"You are a strong, thoughtful and capable woman. But I fear that leads you to believe that you must bear each burden in solitude. Frankly... I worry for you."
The words hung in the air between them, the sound of them ringing in Alinas head like the bells heard in the Grand Cathedral of Orlais. He sounded so genuine, so sincere. The tone of his voice was that of a man who hoped not to probe or prod, but to help. Not the 'help' so called friends who were more akin to vipers that thrived on the secret ways a thing might plague a soul with doubt or fear like those found in the Crows, but true, unselfish help.
Moments went by without words for the third time then, and the absence of her voice must have lingered too long, as she heard Emmrich sigh, the sound almost defeated.
"I apologize if I have overstepped, that is the furthest from my intention. If you should ever decide it is needed, know that my help is always open to you."
She closed the sparse distance between herself and the door as she heard him turn on his heel, gripping the knob perhaps too roughly before turning it slowly in contrast. She stood there now, her door only partially opened as she hanged her head, not meeting Emmrichs gaze, which had been cast towards her upon his realization that her door had been swung ajar.
When her eyes finally dared a glance at his face, she saw the tender smile adorning his features; a look that spoke of understanding. She snapped her gaze to the floor again, stepping to the side in silent invitation. He nodded, a useless exercise in propriety, as Alina had already spun around to go deeper into her chambers, before crossing the threshold, closing the door carefully behind him.
Upon his entry, he noted the relative state of tidiness about the room, save for the sole pile of clothes bunched up into the corner - the discarded armor from earlier that day - and the disarray of the bedsheets, which looked to have been tousled from above.
This had been his first time setting foot in her room. Her scent clung to the air here. Not overpowering, just distinct in its presence. Hints of lavender and cinnamon bark wafted through the chamber, pleasant and welcome. He noted then the letter sitting on a desk in a far corner of the room, left there like a relic of superstition that one would be too fearful to touch.
"I'm not entirely sure what you're hoping to hear me say." Alina announced, bringing Emmrich back from his thoughts.
He brought each of his fingertips to rest against one another on either hand, holding them in a pyramid shape hanged just above the sash at his waist, his face neutral.
"What it is that has you so stricken would be a fine place to start, I should think."
"That isn't what I meant. It's..." she paused, folding one arm beneath her elbow to prop the other up, her fingers taking a large strand of her ebony black hair between them to twist and curl it between them - a quirk she often displayed as a manner of self soothing, "...I don't know what saying it would change. The reality remains the same, regardless."
"Not necessarily. There are times when voicing ones feelings can be greatly liberating, or even at times revolutionary."
"You say that as though I should already know it."
"If you were not already aware, perhaps you might consider this something of a learning experience?"
Alina looked up to Emmrich, her green eyes searching for something telling. He merely gave her that familiar, understanding smile.
"I can see this is difficult for you, Alina, and I can assure you that you are safe to express whatever it is weighing on your heart."
She continued to pinch and twirl her hair between her slender, pale fingers, looking away from the necromancer before turning her back to him.
"It... would be easier if you simply read the note." She breathed out, her words catching slightly in her throat as if obstructed.
He stood, simply looking at her for a time as if ensuring all was safe for him to proceed. After only a moment, the jingling of his jewelry bounced delicately off the walls as he began to move, Emmrich stopping right as he stood perfectly before the desk in the corner. He reached out, taking it carefully from its perch. His long digits took deliberate care not to damage the page.
His eyes rolled over each word with consideration, taking in their meaning attentively. His brows knitted together, concern and confusion melding into one. When he had finished reading, he cast his gaze to rest on Alinas back, which was still facing him.
"Alina, I'm not sure I understand... This man, Aurelio... He wishes to see you?" Emmrich asked.
"Yes."
"But something happened between you? Something to earn him your resentment?"
"Yes."
"And what is it about this that is troubling you so?" He inquired, finally setting the letter aside, "If you're conflicted-"
"I'm not." Alina interjected swiftly, all but spitting out the words. "I never want to lay eyes on him for as long as I live."
"Yet you remain perturbed nonetheless. Clearly, the matter is not so easily settled."
"You don't understand!" Her voice raised now in what sounded too close to panic for her liking.
"I am trying to." Emmrich replied, his words low and calm, brimming with a patience she thought of as almost foreign.
"Emmrich, he..." she paused, the twirling motions of her fingers becoming increasingly rough and quick, which gained the necromancers notice, "This man... He betrayed me."
Emmrich chanced a small step towards her, his hands interlocking as his attention returned to the obscured part of Alinas face that was visible to him, the elf shifting awkwardly in her place.
"How so?" He questioned delicately, sensitively, his voice barely above a whisper.
"We had - we were engaged to marry, you see. We were lovers for many years, and friends for many more. But..." she stopped, her hand all but yanking at the strands of her hair now, "He had been unfaithful. I don't know for how long and I don't care. He lured me out to where he and his mistress could kill me - dispose of me so I would no longer be an obstacle."
She twisted her torso slightly, not facing him fully, but granting him view enough of her frame to make out the way the hand not tugging at her raven locks ghosted up her collarbone to touch the edge of her choker necklace, which would look more akin to a thick collar if not for the fine lace and adornments lined with gold patterns.
"He watched as his lover slit my throat and left me to die. He planned it..." her words were choked, her voice raising in pitch, "I trusted him with my life; I would have given it to him, and he still tried to take it from me."
She met his gaze now, her eyes boring into his with renewed fire, even as the edges brimmed with moisture. "You want me to tell you how I feel? I feel angry. I feel foolish for ever having trusted that bastard. I feel as if I've had something stolen, while he has the gall to plead to meet with me! How can someone do that?! How does... How can..."
As Alina drawled off, her words fading into dead air as her fingers sat motionless and dug mindlessly into her black tresses, Emmrich regarded her with a tender expression.
"I see. It isn't the man, but what was taken from you that you mourn." His words came out as if he was more musing to himself as opposed to speaking directly to Alina.
Alina jumped slightly as she felt the sudden press of hands gently cupping her shoulders, her eyes blowing wide as the man turned her slowly to face him.
"My dear girl," he started in a tone that was kind yet firm, his larger hand reaching out to pry her smaller one that was tangled in her now frazzled hair, holding it gingerly, "perhaps the words mean too little and come far too late, but I deeply sorry for what was done to you."
Emmrich released her hand and shoulder slowly, her green, verdant eyes caught in his brown gaze that seemed to brim with benevolence and sympathy.
"What you suffered was vicious and utterly horrific. You deserve far better than the abject cruelty that you faced."
Her breath caught as Emmrich moved then to tuck the strand of hair she had defaced behind her ear, his fingers light and slow, his touch ghosting a long, thoughtful trail along the rim of her pointed ear.
Then, his features melted into pure compassion. In that moment, she nearly felt compelled to sob openly. Years had gone by without ever hearing so much as a word of comfort, even from those she may have counted amongst her friends. Yet, here was Emmrich; towering above her, ready to reassure and offer solace with open arms.
She touched the place where his fingers had been, lowering her face so he could longer stare at her, hiding how her eyes welled with tears.
"It's late. I should get some sleep. You should too." She spoke quietly, fearing the way she might sound if she raised her voice.
"I believe you should, yes." Emmrich dipped his head, the expression he wore a knowing one. He understood what she needed.
He made his way to the entrance of her room, grabbing the knob gently. "Goodnight, Alina."
"Goodnight." She replied in a whisper he could only barely register.
Her eyes never left the floor, but as she heard the door creak shut at last, she stood there motionless for what felt like an eternity. His footsteps followed, the sound slight until they faded entirely. She stared at the place where he had stood earlier now, the edge of her mouth drawn up subconsciously.
"Thank you."
#DADreams#emmrich x rook#emmrich volkarin#emmrook#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age#dragon age fanfiction#oc x canon
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Root of Evil symbol
Watched Helluva Boss recently and decide to look into the symbol of the "Root of Evil" a bit. It appears in episode 1 and episode 3 ("Murder Family" and "Spring Broken" respectively). Was just wanting to draw it at first but then I started wondering about the symbolism. So I've broken it down a bit below:
The whole symbol kind of resembles trees or antlers but some parts seem mildly different than others stylistically, which can be hard to see when the symbol is combined (or doodled over like I did lol).
The centre of the symbol seems to resembles an upside-down cross or sword. Knowing this as an evil symbol I want to say it's supposed to be the cross, but both iterations of this symbol show a clear gradient in the thickness of the line so the sword imagery cannot be entirely dismissed. Or maybe it's a dagger? Backstabbing/betrayal is definitely a theme that goes well with evil in general.
The lowest tier of 'branches' on the symbol is different from the other because the 'tines' of the antler-like structure are very rectangular. It's like they've been filed down, or perhaps they aren't meant to resemble spiky horns/branches at all. The more I look at it the more I wonder if they're supposed to represent feathers or something. Upside-down angel wings would certainly be thematic with the upside-down cross/sword imagery from earlier.
The middle tier of 'antlers' is the smallest, but also most central. It perhaps represents hands pushing outwards, but personally it looks a lot more like deer horns to me, though the one line that goes out both sides is oddly notable since all other spiky bits on this symbol are only on one side of their respective 'branches'. Honestly kind of reminds me of a radio antennae mixed with antlers. (I may be obsessed with Alastor of course, so I am definitely biased lol)
At first glance the top 'branch' also looks like antlers, but the curve of the base, combined with the curve of the spikes, makes me think of bug legs more than anything. You ever seen a grasshopper leg? Or seen too much Hollow Knight art? You probably know what I mean.
I know Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel take place in the same universe, so as a chiefly Hazbin fan I can't help but make connections here that might not actually exist. But that's probably just me making wild, whacky, unfounded theories. After all, it's not like we know of a group where at least one of them has something to do with bugs, another has wings, and the central character has both antlers, a radio theme, and/or an upside-down cross in their outfit somewhere...
Wait. Oh. Yeah we do.
So I'm pretty convinced that these guys have something to do with the "Root of Evil" that the one crazy family in Helluva Boss episode 1 intended to honour. Even if Alastor is the only one who really knows what is going on, and is dragging the others along for the ride...
On that note, there sure is a lot of red eye symbolism in both Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel when this subject comes up. Helluva boss correlates these two concepts with a decent amount of certainty too imho. Have a couple images to prove my point. Need I say more?
Actually I'm not saying more because I'm just lazy. lol. Anyways, I hope you all had fun with this concept. Build on it as you will...
#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#alastor#husk#nifty#theory#only one thing kind of bugs me#the eyes are supposed to represent evil#but mostly you only see them in the pride ring#do these eyes only care about the sinners?#have I just missed seeing them in Helluva Boss?#Or is the being associated with these eyes lurking in the Pride ring?#your guess is as good as mine#HH theory#roo#root of evil
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